


"Those kill, you know."

by ScytheMeister7



Series: 30 Dialogue Prompts - April [21]
Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Ambiguity, Cigarettes, Gen, Gloomy Weather, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScytheMeister7/pseuds/ScytheMeister7
Summary: Prompt Twenty-One: Jack watches smoke





	"Those kill, you know."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sleepy so sorry for any errors

The day was gloomy enough. Thick fog covered the streets limiting visibility to the point of driving being basically unrecommended. The air was thick with humidity, weighing down movement, making things feels sluggish and slow.

When Jack saw the thick billows of smoke, his first thought was how desperate someone had to be to stand in this type of weather just to take a puff. Despite these thoughts, Jack couldn't help but feel hypocritical.

After all, he himself was getting ready to walk the fog thickened streets in order to see a friend and keep them company. This type of weather had a haunting presence, one that spoke of bad things to come.

Jack wasn't superstitious, but he didn't like risking things by being alone either.

As he walked out of his apartment complex, the Irishman managed to catch a look at the smoker. Even with his limited vision, glasses blurring due to his breath and the moisture in the air, Jack could make out the main identifying features of the figure.

It was a man, perhaps about Jack’s own age. He was above average height with short black hair and a pair of glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. The man’s coat with black and long, reaching just about the back of his knees, obscuring the rest of his outfit from view. Balanced between his lips was a freshly lit cigarette.

From the distance between them, Jack couldn't be too sure if the man’s eyes were open or closed. He looked serene in his actions and Jack wondered how he could be. Not thinking clearly, he began to walk forward, confirming that the man’s eyes were indeed closed, but he was far from serene.

The scrunch of his eyes made me look to be in pain and Jack felt the urge to reach out and shake him from his thoughts. He stopped himself and spoke instead.

“Those kill, you know.” He said. The man didn't jump at the sudden presence of another, instead opening his eyes languidly, like a cat. His brown eyes were blank, and Jack could feel a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

“Why do you think I smoke them?” The man asked, cigarette still in his mouth. His voice was different than what Jack had expected: slow and deep, a rumble more than an actual intonation. Jack could feel it beneath his skin, wondering who this man was and why he had such eerie effects on him.

Thinking about it then, Jack had never seen the man before. In a rather connected neighborhood, it was difficult to run into someone you didn't know, and this man was severely out of place.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confusion lacing his voice. The man gave him an empty smile. Jack watched as he lifted the cigarette from his mouth and blew tendrils of smoke into the air, watching it dance in the fog before dissipating.

“I mean what I said.” The man replied. The wind picked up then, blowing swiftly into Jack’s face, marring his vision.

When he could finally see again, the man was gone, and the sun was beginning to peek from between the clouds. 


End file.
